Sticks and Stones
by Shadowsammy
Summary: "What is imprinting?" I asked, to which Quil and Embry happily chorused, "Imprinting is when Paul wants in your pants!" Confused, I blinked and said, "Um, I don't think that Paul will fit in these jeans." Jacob cursed quietly and muttered, "Paul doesn't want to wear your pants, Sammy." Paul X OC AU
1. Chapter 1: Into the Night

~Prologue~

Into the Night

_Is It Any Wonder Why I'm Scared?  
If I Was A Little Younger, Would I Care?  
Feeling Like The Walls Are Growing Stronger;  
I Don't Know If This Cage Can Hold Me Any Longer._

_You Never Dreamed You'd Have To Live Your Life So Guarded,_  
_'Cause They'll Find A Way To Make You Feel Discarded._  
_Things Have Changed; You've Become A Complication._

_I'm Not Afraid of Tomorrow;  
I'm Only Scared Of Myself._

~_Tomorrow_, by SR-71

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**Sammy's P.O.V.**

When I was a very young girl, I listened to the music of the night and danced outside to the sounds of crickets chirping, frogs croaking, and wolves howling to the moon. My father would smile but refused to laugh. He did not find wolves funny. He did not find the wild canines to be strong, powerful, and beautiful in their capacity to love and live in packs, like I did. No, Daddy did not particularly like to acknowledge the beauty in himself. Uncle Padfoot said that it was simply because Daddy liked to be mature and boring and self-sacrificing. Harry was pretty similar in personality, what with his hero complex and all, but I liked that about him. He protected and looked out for the wellbeing of his friends.

"Are you really certain that this is necessary, Sammy?" Harry inquired, his voice quiet and emerald stare burning holes in the back of the leather jacket that I decided to wear, since it is chilly this evening. "You could always stay with me and Padfoot at Grimmauld Place."

Hesitantly, I shrugged both shoulders and leaned against the Gryffindor to keep from shivering and falling ill. My genes were not made for the cold weather. Neither were my jeans, come to think of it, but I could hardly afford to run out and buy new ones. I sighed, picking at the holes in the knees, and said, "Uncle Padfoot is nice and all, Harry, but I don't wanna intrude…"

"He wouldn't mind!" Harry insisted, leaning his head against mine without trouble because of the small height difference between us. He was a whole two inches taller, which I deemed to be entirely unfair, given that Harry was a year or so younger. Quietly clearing his throat, Harry shuffled his feet and shyly added, "And I wouldn't really mind, either…"

"Yeah, I know, Harry, but I really think that it would be better for _you_ to hang out with Uncle Padfoot," I responded, before ruffling his beautiful black hair with slender fingers. "You're his godson, and I think that Uncle Padfoot wants to hang out with _you_."

"But…" Harry protested, almost wordlessly, and floundered to find another reason my running could be prevented. His expression dropped into despair, something I could not stand to see, and his lips trembled. "You…I…"

Grinning to lighten the mood, I nudged his shoulder and teased, "It kinda defeats the purpose of Guy Time if I hang around with you and Uncle Padfoot, right?" I snickered and gestured to the carefully hidden breasts in my jacket. "Dicks before chicks, Harry!"

The Gryffindor scoffed at these crude words and halfheartedly attempted to fix his hair by running both hands through the mess. Harry sighed in defeat when another stray lock of hair bolted upwards and saluted him. Green eyes considered the carefully cheerful expression I'd adopted. "What about Uncle Moony?"

An invisible fist clenched tightly around the frantically beating heart in my chest, and I glanced at the clouds to ward off the sudden river of tears in my eyes. Wearily, I rubbed the purpled skin under my eyes, and sadly explained, "Daddy said that You-Know-Who is looking for..._people_...like him."

Although placed in Gryffindor, Harry displayed traits from all four of the Hogwarts Houses. He was impulsive, sneaky, clever, and hardworking. So Harry, who remained far from stupid and ignorant, clenched his fists against his sides and darkly stated, "You mean people like _you_…"

With another sigh, I turned from the clouds and stared into his brilliantly green eyes, my smile small but genuine. I automatically pulled his hands into mine, smoothing the wrinkles in his skin with tender fingers and warmth. My friends and his did not get along, but I loved to spend time with Harry. We were not too terribly alike, but Harry and I shared bonds of family – or rather, the lack thereof. Strangely enough, I viewed and treated him as a pup – my pup, as a matter of fact – though I celebrated birthdays only twenty months before him. I liked to spoil him and cuddle with him, too.

Daddy was, as expected, initially surprised when I mentioned this connection to Harry. The wolf inside me remained stubbornly hidden in my veins and did not often make itself known to others. He eventually explained, however, after much whining on my part, that I likely viewed him as a pup since female wolves developed maternal instincts at a young age. Many females could not have young and claimed abused children as pups. Harry was, and always would be, mine. I loved him like a son.

Which Uncle Padfoot seemed to find hilarious, by the way…

"Well, I am pretty awesome," I dryly said in response to his statement, smirking and crossing both arms over my chest to ward off the chill of late December. My hands pulled the zipper of the leather jacket upwards and then curled into the depths of the pockets, which I remembered to be empty – save one item.

Ignoring his worried silence, I crouched down to aim a pair of old Converse at the trunk beside me, as was a common occurrence – it would not open without force. So I kicked the leather box open and quietly searched through its contents for another brightly colored box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans. I carelessly shoved two handfuls of randomly picked beans into my mouth, to which Harry paled, and then started to chew away. What Harry did not know, however, was that I spelled the box to only provide beans that tasted good to me. Like chocolate.

I loved chocolate…

Feeling better after succumbing to the call of the munchies, I returned both hands to my pockets and restlessly reached further inside the depths in search of the right pocket. My fingers brushed against the familiar length of wood – twelve ½ inches of mischievous dogwood – that rested in the folds of the leather jacket that Uncle Padfoot gifted to me yesterday. The wand sparked lightly against my skin, sending flashes of heat into my cold veins, and I smiled gratefully.

Suddenly, Harry ripped his hands out of his jeans pockets and launched himself at me. I nearly dropped to the ground with the unexpected weight of his lanky but lean form; however, I finally managed to lean forward and regain my original balance with the aid of the wolf lurking within me. Using that strength, I curled both arms around his waist and hugged the skinny teenager to me with the wish that I could keep him safe and sound and far from harm forever. But I could not do that anymore…

Gently, I scented his black hair, savoring the scent of apples and tears, and immediately removed myself from his grasp. I kissed his cheeks, reddened from the bite of the wind, and backed off without comment. He did not need to know that I could smell him holding back tears. If I mentioned it, I would probably start crying, too, and then I would not want to leave.

Inhaling sharply, I removed the wand from within the pocket and closed both eyes. I centered myself in the calm before the storm, knowing that I would hear of pain and torture and death for many more years. Innocent people would die in the War; however, I cared only for the lives of the people that I loved and treasured beyond simple words – Harry, Tristan, Uncle Padfoot, and Daddy. I would miss them all.

Lifting my wand hand high, I pointed the wand to the brightening skies and calmly said, "_Lumos!_" I cancelled the spell about ten seconds later, backpedaled without conscious thought, and waited in the thickest river of shadows, feeling safe and protected in the darkness of the night. My eyes, now golden in color, glittered like stars.

The Knight Bus immediately screeched to a complete stop, directly in front of the sidewalk, and Stanley Shunpike bounced out through the doors to retrieve my worn and battered trunk and the collection of bags that remained at its side. I shoved the Portkey, a small pocket watch, into Harry's hands. Harry lowered his gaze and quietly stepped backwards, falling into the shadows that I previously occupied, and I distracted Stanley with small talk and questions about the Bus. I listened without really hearing his cheerful words, instead searching the darkness for two familiar green eyes, and finding only emptiness. My wolf howled and slammed herself desperately against the bars of her cage.

"Goodbye, Harry…"

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***Author's Note***

Just a new idea that popped out! I like the idea of witches running around with vampires and shapeshifters. Sammy is going to live that life for me! ;) Please read and review. If this story is liked, I will continue it. Given that I have other stories to finish, however, I'll just scrap it if nobody likes this one. Be nice since I've never written crossovers!


	2. Chapter 2: Werewolf At Walmart

~Chapter One~

Werewolf At Walmart

_The Fear I Carry In My Heart;  
The Things That Change And Turn Around Me.  
What Is It That I Have Become? _

_So Close, I Disappear Into You;  
Doesn't Matter What I Try And Do.  
You Show Me What Is Real and True –  
The Person That I Hope To Be._

_What Is It That I Have Become?_

~_Need_, by The Benjamin Gate

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

* * *

**Lifting my wand hand high, I pointed the wand to the brightening skies and calmly said, "_Lumos!_" I cancelled the spell about ten seconds later, backpedaled without conscious thought, and waited in the thickest river of shadows, feeling safe and protected in the darkness of the night. My eyes, now golden in color, glittered like stars.**

**The Knight Bus immediately screeched to a complete stop, directly in front of the sidewalk, and Stanley Shunpike bounced out through the doors to retrieve my worn and battered trunk and the collection of bags that remained at its side. I shoved the Portkey, a small pocket watch, into Harry's hands. Harry lowered his gaze and quietly stepped backwards, falling into the shadows that I previously occupied, and I distracted Stanley with small talk and questions about the Bus. I listened without really hearing his cheerful words, instead searching the darkness for two familiar green eyes, and finding only emptiness. My wolf howled and slammed herself desperately against the bars of her cage.**

**"Goodbye, Harry…"**

* * *

**Sammy's P.O.V.**

For the last four months and twenty five days, I'd been exiled to perhaps the darkest and rainiest corner of the United States of America. Washington, I realized with humor, was wet about 85% of the time, just like England. Without the hidden population of witches and wizards, of course! In fact, I personally believed it to be the most dreadfully boring place in the entire world, what with the distinct lack of magical people to stalk, and places to haunt, and items to steal – uh, borrow. No Sorcerer's Stone. No Chamber of Secrets. No Death Eaters and Dark Lords. Nothing!

On the plus side, however, I did not have to worry about being killed! People in Washington carried little interest in killing Harry or me – with the exception of traditional thugs, rapists, and murderers, anyway. My home, a small white cottage in the middle of the forest, was now safely hidden from the claws of Lord Voldemort, and for that I remained thankful. I liked being left alone to wander around the forest with only my worries and thoughts for company.

Not running into Aragog was a plus, too, come to think of it…

While I admittedly liked living alone in the beautiful forest, where I could be myself without fear of being caught by Muggles, I hated that I couldn't regularly visit Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, and the other magical places of interest that Tristan and I liked to haunt during the summer. I could not buy Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. I could not buy pink striped ice cream with glow 'n the dark sprinkles from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. I could not wander around the Black Lake and have one-sided conversations about fishsticks with the Giant Squid.

Instead, I remained sequestered inside my cottage, the beautiful forest, the local library, and – Walmart.

Bloody Hell, I hated Walmart!

Alas, I needed cold hard cash to survive, and somehow I could not find suitable employment with resumes indicating high O.W.L.S in Transfiguration, Charms, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures. Go figure, though, right? My detailed references from the Wizarding World, including the letters of recommendation from Professor Flitwick and Professor Kettleburn, each handwritten with ink and parchment, did not help much in the job search, either. Professor Dumbledore lied to me…!

"Your grand total is $15.75," I cheerfully stated, popping another yellow bubble with gusto and aplomb. Gum helped to ease my nerves, which jittered almost constantly because of the recent withdrawal symptoms – _I need wizarding candy, I need wizarding candy, I need wizarding candy, I NEED WIZARDING CANDY_ – I'd developed in the last month.

Inwardly, I dropped to the dirty floor, clasped both hands together in a prayer, and desperately wailed: _Honeydukes, how I miss thee…! _

"Here you go," Mike kindly said, dropping two crumpled bills and several different coins into my waiting palm, one of which abandoned ship and escaped to the floor. His cheeks flushed red, Mike ducked down to retrieve the mischievous coin and quietly (much too quietly to be heard by **normal** humans, anyway) muttered, "Why me?"

Given the moment to observe him without being noticed, I shamelessly eyed his physique and coloring, amused. He was muscled, lean, and fit. With his light blonde hair and penetrating blue stare, Mike could also have been related to me. A second cousin twice removed, perhaps? My nostrils flared when I caught the smell of his cologne and, beneath it, his natural scent. He was much too human to be of direct blood relation to me, though, and smelled kinda like cats…

Merlin, I hated cats!

Candy, though…

_You know, _I hummed in speculation, reaching into my wide pockets and searching blindly for the hidden stash of flavored candy in their depths, _Bertie Bott must put some extra __**bang**__ in his Every Flavored Beans or something!_

Finding nothing but lint and two dollars worth of quarters, however, I twitched in horror. My smile, normally quick and sincere, seemed to freeze in place. Pink lips twisted upwards to my eyes, which seemed devoid of all emotion now, and parted to release a scream. I attempted not to howl in frustration, all the while feeling like I needed to make something explode and burst into flames. Fuck, I wished that Seamus Finnigan were somewhere nearby to help with this sudden desire to become a pyromaniac!

Seeing how Seamus was in Scotland, however, I made do with punching the dirty buttons of the cash register, glaring at the screen, and hissing in what I pretended to be Parseltongue. "Your change," I finally sighed, removing five dollar bills from the cash drawer and placing it in his hand. Eyes empty of emotion, I turned to him, smiled much too widely to be healthy for my gums, and dryly exclaimed, "Have a nice day, Mike!"

"Thanks," Mike cheerfully said, clearly oblivious to the bored tone of voice that most employees at Walmart, myself included, seemed to use. "I hope you enjoy the rest of the day, Sammy!" He waved his left hand, the one not holding the shopping bag, in farewell and headed to the sliding doors behind the cash register. "See you at school tomorrow!"

"Yeah," I muttered with another sigh and the telltale grimace that foretold of the bad mood I would likely be in tomorrow morning. My blue eyes watered suspiciously for another moment, during which time my memories zipped back to Hogwarts – to all the students and professors and classes, both good and bad – before I swallowed thickly and returned to work.

Another customer awaited service.

_Yay…_

"Hey, Sammy," Bella kindly greeted, her brown eyes moving from mine to the door through which Mike recently exited. Her eyebrow twitched lightly in barely concealed irritation, but I noticed it all the same. "Um, I noticed Mike Newton passing through here, and…"

Instantly, I reverted back to my normally cheerful personality, smiled at the older teenager, and teasingly inquired, "You ducked behind the soda machine – not because you're weird, really – but because you wanted to avoid the unwanted courtship of Prince-Not-So-Charming?" I popped another bubble, amused, and lifted both eyebrows upwards in question.

"No, uh, yeah, but I…" Bella stuttered through her teeth like a child caught in the act of stealing cookies from the kitchen, before rolling her brown eyes, annoyed, and finally consenting to tell the truth. She huffed faintly in irritation and explained, "Mike doesn't really understand that I don't think of him as good boyfriend material."

My lips twisted into a smirk at the blush of embarrassment that darkened her pale cheeks, but I stifled the desire to laugh and tease her further about Mike. Bella was a sweet girl, raised to be kind and polite to strangers. While book smart, however, Bella could not claim to have any common sense. She lacked the skill to observe and take note of the eccentricities of other people. Bella, bless her heart, also lacked the skill to torture others with that useful bit of information.

Unfortunately for her, I was not above blackmail, and I really, really, _really_ liked to watch people squirm. Uncle Padfoot found this to be incredibly entertaining. He also liked to think I enjoyed such horrible hobbies because his sister, my mother, passed her questionable personality to me. Daddy did not approve entirely of these antics. But I couldn't really bring myself to care, given that other people of magical origins – even ones with creature blood – refused to offer him employment and essentially treated him like dirt. Just because Daddy was a werewolf!

Merlin, I hated hypocrites…

So I smiled mischievously at her, thinking back to the gossip from lunch last week, and playfully quipped, "How 'bout that Jacob Black, then, eh?" I leaned forward to prop myself upwards with both elbows and fluttered dark brown eyelashes at her like Lauren Mallory might – if Isabella Swan could be mistaken for Tyler Crowley, anyway. "He certainly is a pretty one!"

Immediately, Bella whipped around from emptying her shopping cart of its groceries and stared down at me with something akin to horror glowing in her eyes. Hurt flashed in their honeyed depths. Instantly, I recognized the expression and images of Hermione appeared in my mind, tears streaming down her pretty face when Ron stubbornly refused to acknowledge that The Viktor Krum could _possibly _like her enough to escort her for Yule. I hurt for her, although Hermione and I weren't friends, and I hexed Ron into oblivion for being an ass.

_You know, Bella kinda looks liked Hermione…_

Ashamed, I returned to scanning her items – bananas, lunchmeat, bread, milk, and tea, among other things – and carefully placing each purchase in another of the recyclable bags Bella carried with her to the store. She must have been a saint in another life! Eyebrows furrowed, lips pulled downwards into a scowl, I continued this task in silence, mind darting back to what Lauren nastily said last Friday. _Perfect Bella, huh?_

In all honesty, however, I envied her…

Merlin, I hated myself for not being that innately good, but what good could I possibly do? I was a witch masquerading as a normal human. A hungry wolf hidden amidst the innocent lambs, I longed to lean over the register and howl in her face. It would satisfy the beast within me when I scared her out of her wits. The teenage girl within me, a part that I refused to acknowledge at times like this one, merely shoved the wolf back in her cage, securely locked the door, and cheerfully tossed the key away. She tapped the toe of her left sandal against the hard dirt, exasperated, and impatiently gestured for me to continue.

_Tell Bella that you're sorry! _Human Sammy insisted, her hands to her hips, and sternly pointed at me. _Tell her, tell her, tell her…! TELL HER! _

Obediently, I followed these instructions – or rather, orders – and glanced at her, wincing at the downcast expression within her eyes. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and I wanted to die, but I swallowed down my pride, crossed both arms over my chest, and shyly stuttered, "Bella, I…"

"Forget it, okay?" Bella interrupted with a sigh, sounding tired, and frustrated, and sad. Her focus shifted elsewhere while I bagged the last of her items, accepted her debit card, and swiped it through the card machine to complete her transaction.

Sadly, I focused again on my register and punched the button for the last question. I printed her receipt, circled the total with a green pen, and quietly said, "Okay, Bella…" My expression saddened when the other girl said nothing further.

Bella brushed her brown bangs behind her pierced ears and returned to place the plastic card back in her small and sensibly brown pocketbook. She pocketed the receipt and started forward with her cart, probably heading out to her old truck, but stopped. Hesitantly, Bella glanced at me, eyes warm and curious, and asked, "See you at school?"

Unlike Mike, I noticed, Bella seemed perceptive enough to feelings that I betrayed only with my eyes and realized that I would probably be skipping classes again. What did it matter? My good grades at Forks High School would not ever count at Hogwarts, anyway. Still, I longed to ask her for her help, for her kindness, for her friendship. I wanted to be her friend, if only to have one again. Deep inside, I missed Harry and Tristan, who I realized would be busy mixing potions right about now. Gryffindor and Slytherins always went to Potions together…

_Forget Harry and Tristan! _Human Sammy screeched. _Ask Bella to be friends with you! _She slapped her palm to her forehead and began to pull her hair out with both hands, obviously frustrated with me. _Ask her, ask her, ask her…! ASK HER!_

Beside her, Wolf Sammy smirked, leaning against the bars of her cage, and darkly mused: _What would her fear taste like if I chased her through the forest with fangs bared and claws reaching for her, I wonder? _

Instead of listening to the imaginary voices whispering in my mind, I smiled brightly at Bella, shrugged both shoulders, and carelessly responded, "Who knows?"

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***Author's Note***

Since some people like this story, too, I have decided to continue in my wanderings through _Harry Potter _and _Twilight. _I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, which finds Sammy in Forks, Washington. She attends Forks High and knows both Bella and Mike, but what does that mean about the pack? We all know how wolf packs react to finding other wolves in their territory! What will happen to Sammy when that time comes? Hmm...

Anyways! Thanks for the reviews and favorites and follows! I really appreciate it! Please continue to do so! I would love to have extra feedback for this chapter. :D

P.S. I'll update at six reviews, okay? I need motivation!


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